


Life Before The Lobotomy

by DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose



Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: And a really great friend helped me out!, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don is the worst, Emotional Manipulation, Hanahaki AU, Hurt/No Comfort, I chose pink camellia flowers for this, Kenny is regretting everything, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, They mean longing so I thought it worked, brief mentions of self harm, but they are trying, i hit a real roadblock creatively, mentions of Bullet Club, sorry for the angst and stuff, the Bucks are bad friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:42:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29486967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose/pseuds/DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose
Summary: Maybe compartmentalising to deal with every emotion you’ve ever felt, and all the things you’ve ever done, isn’t such a great idea after all.Maybe trusting so blindly isn’t a good plan either.Kenny’s in too much pain to know which one broke him
Relationships: Ibushi Kota/Kenny Omega, Kenny Omega/ “Hangman” Adam Page (mentioned)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. A Final Gift to Last

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thunderstormsablaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderstormsablaze/gifts).



> Thank you SO MUCH to Thunderstormsablaze! After finishing the Mafia AU I got stuck in a rut and their prompts got the words out of my head and on the paper! Thank you so much!

He drops Adam down on his head into the one- winged angel, driving him down into the canvas with a deafening crash. The sound resounds through the arena.

He tried to love Adam, he really did. But he just... doesn't love Adam like he loved Kota. He knows that by avoiding the problem, he caused them both a lot of pain. He's sorry, even though he'll never actually find the words to tell him that. 

He makes the cover. 

All the memories flood back at once. Long nights and longer drives, playful kisses and raised glasses. He savours every second that flashes through his mind.

He hears the ringing of the bell. He's won, and it's all over. He's burned that bridge. He feels something like nostalgia, a brief moment where he doesn't want this all to be over just yet. He find himself not wanting to go. His heart aches at the thought of actually leaving Adam. 

He touches his shoulder. It's gentle and loving, a final goodbye, a parting gift.

"Thanks for the memories." He whispers softly, voice filled with both warmth and solemnity. It's an apology in its own way, one he's not even sure Hangman can hear.

He could be unconscious from the landing, or maybe the roar of the crowd is drowning him out. It's unclear, but only for a moment. Adam's eyes open, as if the words had brought him back to life. Kenny smiled down at him, a single tear falling from his eye as he brushed a few curls from Adam's face. 

"Goodbye." He whispers, getting to his feet and walking away. 

He doesn't look back. 

If he had, he would have seen Adam reaching for him. If he had, he would have hesitated.

Parting is always such sweet sorrow. Kenny thought that he would get used to it over the years but he never did. It never got any easier to let go and yet he still pushed everyone away, It got a little bit harder to let people in, and yet he still fled from commitments.

He'd shoved all the memories of Kota into a little box in his head. He never opens it, tries to keep them contained. It's easier that way, since he doesn't have to confront his actions. There's no guilt or shame, only longing.

Not that longing is much preferable. 

He does the same thing with all the memories of Adam. All of them, whether they were the brief and fond nights where Adam was sober, or the restless ones where Adam was drunk and depressed and trying to harm himself and Kenny would do everything in his power to protect him. 

He plays them all in his mind one last time, before he locks them all away. He closed his eyes vowing that he won't ever acknowledge them again. He hopes they won't escape their little box.

Sometimes the memories of Kota get out. It always happens when he least expects it, too. They run rampant and send him spiralling into an abyss of grief and longing. 

His chest is tight, his throat feels odd, he can't seem to take a breath. He drops to his knees the moment he's locked the hotel room door behind him. 

The funny little thing about the boxes is he can't think about them, or they open. The memories escape and swirl in his mind, causing whatever this is.

He always pretends these bizarre physical symptoms are from the matches. Just exhaustion, maybe he's disturbed an old injury. A bone that didn't set right, a muscle that didn't heal correctly. 

He insists that he feels sick from the adrenaline, or maybe a mild concussion, no other reason. That's why he can't sleep at night, just in case it is a concussion. It's not because of the guilt or the nightmares or the same. He's staying awake on purpose.

The only reason he can't breathe is because his heart is racing and he's tired from the match. It's not because he feels like the weight of the world is resting upon his shoulders and crushing him. 

He tells himself that there is nothing wrong, over and over again. He lies to himself, over and over again. It's the only way he knows how to survive, the only thing he knows how to do anymore.

His chest is getting tighter, like someone pulling on the lacing of a corset and he can't breathe at all. He's gasping and choking and black spots dance in his vision. He's dying. This is it, there's not other explanation. 

Panic fills his mind, he shakes uncontrollably. He's not ready. There's so many things he wants to do, he's so frightened.

He coughs, trying to stay upright, crawling to sit beside the bed. His hand grips his throat, and he scratches and claws at it, as if that will help him. He coughs until his throat is feeling raw, and he finally figures out what is wrong. 

A single, pink camellia petal drifts down to the floor. 

Time seems to stop. This can't be real, this can't be happening. It was all going so well, he had been doing everything right. He'd been trying to move on, he'd been working hard. 

"I'm not in love." He whispered, scrunching the petal in his hands.

"I'm not in love, I'm just a mess." He repeats to himself.

He's lying to himself, like he always does. It's all he knows, it's how he copes.

In his heart, he knows the flowers themselves mean longing. He knows that they're for Kota. He knows that the time apart had finally broken him. He sobs, unable to think of anything else to do. He just wants to be held, to be loved by him again. What had be ever been thinking trying to leave?

He calls Kota. He knows there's no point. He knows that Kota changed his number, he knows he won't pick up, but he has to try. He's shaking with the force of the sobs when Don knocks on his door.

"Kid?" He asks. When there's no response, he stands there for a moment, before opening the door. Kenny is curled up on the floor. 

"Kenny, what's wrong?" Don asks, voice concerned. He sits down in front of him.

Don cares about him. Don has never ever hurt him. Don has never let him leave before. He's always been there when Kenny needs him. 

Always. 

He doesn't see Don's smirk through the tears blurring his vision.

"I... I miss him already." He whispers, hiding the petal. Nobody can know. No one can know that he's weak. "I miss Kota... I want to go home... but I don't even know where home is anymore." He sniffles. "I feel so guilty and terrible and everything hurts all the time... I can't do it anymore. I don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm here for you now." Don reassures. "And I have an offer I think that you'll like."


	2. My Love, a Lost Memory

He knows it's wrong from the get go. He knows something just isn't right. It's like a sixth sense, one he had developed long ago, during days that he didn't want to bring back. He doesn't know what it is, but he does know that something is up.

He ignores it.

He can spot liars in a crowd with ease, before they speak a word. It's a talent, a skill that he's honed over many sleepless nights filled with paranoia. He knows how to find a liar, he never got a choice but to learn. In bullet club, it's all about survival of the fittest. Even then, you aren't safe. If you let your guard down at the wrong moment, it could all come crashing down.

He's never seen any hint of a liar in Don. He knows, knows for absolute sure, that Don only wants the best for him. He knows he only wants to help. He just has to trust in him, and do as he says. It's not that hard.

He does everything Don tells him to, and Don is proud of him. It feels so good to get that love from somebody again. He's loved. Don believes in him, he doesn't think he's washed up and done. He doesn't think he should fade into the background, he's not like all the critics.

He didn't like cheating to win, but he trusted Don. So he did it, did everything he said without questioning his methods.

He was loved. 

If he had to pretend to be something he wasn't just to keep that, then he would. 

The disease is progressing at a prodigious rate, faster than he had expected. But he doesn't let on, he doesn't tell anybody. Despite the fact that it was advancing far quicker than he anticipated, it had settled into a somewhat predictable rhythm. Predictable enough that he could still hide it.

He kept working out, he kept wrestling matches, he kept living his life as if none of this was happening to him. Even though whenever he looked in the mirror he would notice how pale and sickly he looked, he would just keep grinding, acting like everything in the world was alright and that nothing at all was wrong.

He lays back on the bed. He's won the title. He should be happy, so why can he only feel empty sorrow?

Maybe he is just tired. Maybe he just needs to take a break. He sends Don a quick message to let him know he is getting some sleep, and that he'd appreciate not being disturbed. 

He rolls over to sleep, and dreams fill his vision.

He's chasing two squabbling rabbits, and he leaps after them into the rabbit hole. Now, now he is falling. There's brambles and branches and flowers and they tear at his skin like paper. 

He sees a hand, Kota's hand, reaching out. But the moments their fingertips touch, he yanks it away, and Kenny is falling, falling, falling.

—

Don looks at the message and waits a few hours. Kenny had given him the spare key to his room, so sneaking in was no trouble. He'd just had to be observant to figure out his passcode.

Actually executing the plan was far more difficult. He fiddled with Kenny's notifications to ensure he wouldn't see any messages or calls from Matt and Nick. He managed to come up with an adequate set up pretty quickly. He can regularly clear the missed calls and messages, but as long as Kenny doesn't know that he is even receiving them, he doesn't think it's going to be a concern at all.

He puts everything back as he found it, and slips away back to his own room with a devilish grin.

—-

It's January 4th.

On January 4th, Kenny is watching him. 

He's hugging onto a pillow and hiding his face after every bump, like a child watching a scary movie. 

He's captivated, he can't stop watching. Even though, with every bump he feels the same pain tenfold, as the thorns tear his throat to shreds.

He smiled. He couldn't care less about the pain right now, all he can think of is Kota. It feels like a lifetime since he's last seen him wrestle, and it's just as beautiful as he remembered. He hasn't even looked at a picture of him in months, he hasn't heard his voice in nearly two years.

He spits blood and withering petals into the bucket. This isn't good, they're already dying. He's dying. 

The match seems to last forever. Kota is giving it everything he's got, in every strike he can feel it. He watched him raise the belts and his heart swelled with pride. He switches it off and begins to sob. What else can he do?

—- 

Kota's next match is harder to watch. 

After the battle the previous night, he's hurt and exhausted. Jay is picking him apart, piece by piece, until he can barely move. 

But somehow, some way, his Ibu-tan pulls through. He keeps kicking out, and tries to give as good as he gets. He turns it around, like he always does, he finds a way. Kenny loves him, loves him so much it hurts.

He gags on the blood surging up his throat, coughing it up into the bucket he has for exactly this reason. 

He thinks that Matt and Nick should be texting him at a time like this. Checking that he's alright. They know how he was after Kota won the G1, he was withdrawn and just... off, for days on end. They should be taking care of him like always, but he's heard nothing. It's a different kind of hurt. He wouldn't accept the help if it had been offered to him, they know that, but the bucks know how much it means to know that he's not alone through this.

Maybe Don is right about them.

He looks back up at the screen, just in time to watch Kota perfectly execute a V-trigger, and the pain surges so furiously that he blacks out.


	3. If only I’d had known you had a storm to weather

Kenny comes back around a few hours later. 

His head is pounding, blood has dried on his lips. The bucket is half filled with blood and miscellaneous plant parts. He disposes of it quickly and discreetly. He washes his hands, splashing some ice cold water on his face. 

He looks at himself in the mirror. Sunken eyes, sallow skin, hollow cheeks. It feels like a miracle that he's still alive, he looks like a walking corpse. 

He throws on the nearest hoodie. Maybe a walk and some fresh air will lessen the tightness in his chest, and stop the ache in his joints. 

It's so cold, cold enough to make him tremble.

He wanders the hallways of the hotel, lost in thought. His movements are more jerky and uncoordinated than usual. His footsteps are much heavier, and anyone who knows him well would notice that. Normally Kenny is extremely light on his feet, like he could just take off. It's just one of the many little things that stand out about him.

He knows that Matt and Nick know something is wrong. He's been avoiding them for weeks on end, now. Don had proved the truth to him. They only ever call when they want something from him. They hadn't been there throughout wrestle kingdom, on either day. They hadn't texted or called, they hadn't done anything at all.

He had needed them, and they hadn't been there for him. Matt hadn't even picked up when he called. 

They had him cornered in a hallway, tried to intervene. 

Matt knows they've lost Kenny. He's too far gone now. Don has got the marionette strings in his hands and he is making Kenny dance. They try to cut him free, but the strings are stronger than they are.

They try to make him see, they show him that they have called hundreds of times, sent text after text, and that Don had messed with his phone. 

Kenny doesn't believe them. Matt is shouting tears running down his face. It's heated, they're shoving each other, it's hurting Nick's head, but he stay silent. 

He knows there's nothing left. They were blind to Kenny's needs, they didn't see Don's ruse in time, and this is the penance they must pay. There's nothing left that they can do. They just have to hope and pray that everything is going to be alright. 

Don gets in between them, getting Kenny to leave. 

It's hurts, and it's difficult, and he's grieving the loss of this friendship. Kenny had been part of his life for so long... but he thinks he's got it together, for now. That is, until he hears Don's voice, echoing down the hall. 

"I told you about talking to them, Kenny."

"Don, I'm sorry." Kenny almost whimpered. "They cornered me."

Matt has never heard him like that before. He's seen Kenny vulnerable, but he never whimpers his way through an apology like that.

Don doesn't comfort him, doesn't reassure him. Even if he did, that wouldn't fix how twisted this whole situation is. Somehow it gets worse.

"It was bad enough that you called him... but to speak in person... there's going to be a consequence for this."

That makes Nick's stomach turn. Was Kenny truly unable to see what was happening? Don was so controlling and manipulative, and he wants nothing more than to punch that stupid grin off his dumb used-car-salesman face.

Kenny had been crying out to them for help, and in their spite, they had ignored it. They had been so lost in their own heads that they hadn't been there for him, and Nick wants to take it all back. 

Matt checks his voicemail.

_You have 1 new message. To-_

Before the automated voice can finish, he presses a number to play the message. He's pale, and looks like he's about to throw up as the message plays.

_"Matt, Nick... I know you must hate me, but- please. I'm scared, I don't know what to do. He wants me to cut you guys off, he says you're bad for me but I know you aren't! What do I do? You're my best friends... you're family... I can't lose you!"_

There's the sound of a door opening. The voice that speaks next is Don. It's not in that chipper, faux-friendly tone that has become so familiar. It's cold. Unwelcoming. Warning.

_"Kenny, who are you talking to?"_

__

__

_"Nobody! Nobody, I swear!"_

__

__

_"Kenny. Give me the phone."_

__

__

_"No! I can't... I can't do this to my friends. We need each other."_

__

__

_"Kenny... you don't need them anymore. You've got me. Now hand it over. I will deal with this."_

Matt is crying now. He'd always had a special connection with Kenny, to the point that it sometimes felt like they were the brothers, rather than himself and Matt. The three of them were family. 

He puts a hand on his shoulder in comfort, a silent show of solidarity, and looks down at the floor, unsure of what to do. There's nothing he can say that's going to make this feel any better.

His eyes trace the patterns on the carpet, and that's when he sees the petals. They follow Kenny's path, he was clearly the source. Don hadn't even noticed.

They're pink, edges tinged with red. 

"Matt..." he points to the trail, voice tinged with heartbreak. "Matt, What do we do..?"

"Nothing." Matt looks at him, eyes red-rimmed from crying. His voice is weaker than he's ever heard it, and as he speaks again, it breaks a little. "There's nothing we can do."


	4. Unlikely Alliances

"Hey, Kenta?" 

His partner was already walking away, dragging his suitcase. He sighed, jogging to catch up. Kenta tries to out-walk him by picking up the pace, but he's unsuccessful 

"Kenta-" Kenny starts. Kenta stops turns sharply to glare at him.

"Go away." He says flatly. "we aren't friends."

Kenny scans the area before his shoulders slump, and he finally drops the cocky act. That surprises Kenta, but he doesn't make it obvious. 

"I know, okay? I've been a dick, I get it, it's not exactly under my control right now." He sighs softly. "I've only one thing to ask of you. It's not much, please."

Kenta isn't a total prick. Kenny asked nicely, so he supposed he'll hear him out. Besides, once you're Bullet Club, you're Bullet Club for life. Even if Kenny had become even more of a self absorbed asshole over time, it doesn't change the fact that when it's all said and done, no matter how much they fight, no matter if they nearly kill each other, they'll   
always be brothers. 

"Spit it out." He says, not kindly. Just because he's choosing to be a nice person doesn't mean he has to be all that nice about it. They're brothers in the most honest sense, even if they aren't related by blood, and siblings are never polite to each other. It comes with the territory.

Kenny looked at his feet, looking actually embarrassed. That's odd, and now Kenta is just plain uncomfortable. There's a long, awkward silence.

"Spit it out!" He demands, growing impatient, and Kenny sighs.

"...can I have Kota's number?" 

He's a little taken aback, and he speaks without thinking. "That seems like something you would know off by heart."

"He changed it, after I left. Said there was no looking back."

Kenta weighed his options. There wasn't really a reason not to. In fact, dropping Kota right in it would be good for Bullet Club. It would throw him off his game, and after he beat Jay at wrestle kingdom, it made sense.

"Pen?" He asked and Kenny obliged.

"This stays between us." Kenny says as he he hands over the pen. 

"It better." Kenta warns, nodding in agreement, as he wrote the number on Kenny's wrist.

Kenny's stomach was twisting with anxiety. He was going completely against what Don had told him. He knows he shouldn't, and he trusts Don, he really does. He's like family. He is family. Kenny just thinks he worries too much, is all. And he's been so, so lonely ever since Don proved that they don't care about him.

He'd told him as much, and Don put a fatherly band on his shoulder. He gives him a benevolent smile, and tried to explain it. Kenny understands just how difficult it is to put into words.

"Kenny, kid, let me tell you something. It's always the same. Places come and go, and so do most people in your life. I would never go anywhere, you know that, but other people keep leaving you, don't they Kenny?"

He had quietly nodded, looking at the floor. Don is right, he always is. People are always leaving. He shows a vulnerable little bit of himself, the parts that aren't all that pretty, and they all begin to lose interest. The cracks in the relationship become a fault line, then a canyon, and eventually it's like they never knew each other at all. Even worse, he always comes off as the bad guy.

"What they don't tell you, kid, is that running after them, changing to be what they need from you, it's like... chasing the clouds. A pointless endeavour, and you go around and around in circles, over and over again. You can't make people love you."

Don smirks, and something about it makes him uneasy. 

"Sometimes, you need to let go of people that weigh you down. Toss away the sandbags, cut away all that dead weight. It's just the circle of life, Kenny, you needn't feel guilty. They'd do it to you a million times over."

But he does. He feels terrible. Even though Don has proven to him that Matt and Nick only ever want him when they need something, they were still family. 

He's back in the present again, laying there on the hotel bed.

He's loved so many in his life, all in different ways. Some like family. Matt, Nick, most of Bullet Club. For all their squabbling, they'd been a unit.

He had loved Adam like a lover. One he could spend time with, spend his life with, if he so wanted to, but the petals kept them apart.

Kota had been like his other half, a piece of himself that he didn't even know he had lost.

The scars they leave are written into his skin, carved into his bones. 

Kenny looks over his hands. They're riddled with tiny marks. He knows where each one originated, who gave them to him. Some are from the match he had just a half hour ago.

His own skin is like a tapestry, every tells a story, tales of love and loss. 

He wishes Adam could have found the will to truly hurt him at Full Gear. Then maybe he'd have a memory, something to cling to. A bruise, a scar, a muscle that twinges whenever he moves his arm.

Now he didn't have anyone but Don. It's wasn't that Don wasn't enough, it's just... he needs other kinds of affection too. He needs friends. 

Don has to agree that someone is good for him before he can spend time with them unmonitored. He hates it, he's not a child, but all don has to say is 'trust me', and he is silenced.

Don had literally blocked him off from matt and nick. He had his best interests at heart yes, but this separation had left him lonely, scared and confused. 

More than anything, he just misses Kota.


	5. Something always brings me back to you

He's finally back home.

Don isn't in the house, he's off running an errand. It's the perfect opportunity, the one he's been waiting for since he left Jacksonville. 

He looks at his wrist. The ink is smudged, but he can just about make out the number. He makes a mental note to thank Kenta the next time he sees him. 

He dials the number, pressing the phone to his ear. The suspense is almost unbearable, It rings once. Twice. Three times. It's as if Kota is staring at his phone, wondering if he should pick up. Of course he recognises Kenny's number, how could he not? They'd called each other too many times from airport payphones   
when there was no other way to reach out because on of their phones were dead.

Kenny is tense, wondering if he'll pick up. He has every right not to, he's got every right to just leave him to die here. Kenny wouldn't blame him if he did, he knows he deserves it.

To his shock, Kota picks up the phone. There's a silence for a moment, but Kenny manages to speak. 

"Hello?" Kenny says into the phone, voice hoarse. He shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be disobeying Don like this. 

"I should hang up on you, right now." Kota says harshly. The words are like knives, but Kota's voice melts him, dulling the pain. He pauses to take a deep breath before speaking again. "I told you, that if you were going, it was going to be final. I can't just keep losing you over and over, and taking you back just because you beg me to." 

"Kota, please." He pleaded, unable to feel anything but fear after his brain processes the words. He knows he's unloveable, he knows this is selfish. He knows it, but he doesn't want to die yet, not without seeing Kota again. All he wants, all he could ask for, is just one more chance, one more chance to see him. To touch him, to hold him.

The sobs tear themselves from his throat, and his chest heaves with every one. He can feel his heart breaking, he can feel his grip on hope slipping away.

"Don't do this, don't leave me." He begs.

"Kenny... you were the one who left me. I would have married you, I would have died for you, had you asked me to!" Kota is welling up, Kenny can hear it in his tortured voice. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep loving you just to lose you! I just... after everything you have done... after the time that has passed... I don't think I love you anymore."

At those last words, Kenny feels a stabbing pain in his chest. 

The guilt from what Kota had said washes over him like a tidal wave. On its own, it's almost enough to incapacitate him, but it doesn't even begin to compare to the pain. He lets out a sharp cry of agony. The roots, stems and branches burrow deeper into him, tearing and shredding at his insides. 

His phone clatters from his hands and he hacks and coughs. Petals tumble from his lips, edged in blood. He's held on for 3 months, without telling a soul, without anyone noticing. That's longer than most live after they find the first petal, but Kenny is nothing if he isn't a fighter. 

"Kenny..?" Kota asks, worriedly. He's never heard Kenny like that. Not after the worst injury, never. Kenny scrambles for the phone, puts it on speaker so Kota can hear him.

"I'm here, I'm still here, don't go, please." He begs desperately. His whimpers of pain sound more like screams. The pain is blinding, he feels like he's about to black out. "Keep talking, please. Your voice... it helps." 

He could taste blood as he spat out more thorns and leaves and decaying plant matter. The pink flowers are withering and shrivelled and smell like decomposition and the iron of blood. 

He himself is decaying, growing more fragile by the day. The blossoms are a parasite, taking him over. He is nothing but a host to this growing creature, fragile bones held together by stems and branches, insides scarred by thorns and brambles. He feels them grow and expand all the time, but never as violently as when Kota said he didn't love him anymore.

"Kenny..." Kota whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Kota, I'm scared." He whispered. He knows that's not enough of an explanation, but he himself hadn't truly accepted it yet. How could he expect to explain what he doesn't even believe. Tears came to his eyes again, and he forces the words out. "The petals... ever since Full Gear... It's Hanahaki, please help me, please, I don't know what to do." 

"Kenny, I- I'll be there as soon as I can." Kota promises. 

Kenny hears footsteps. They're Don's footsteps. He doesn't want to go. He wants to talk to Kota forever, but he can't risk being caught. He can't risk anything. 

"I have to go." He hung up and shoved the bucket under the bed. He wipes the blood from his mouth, he takes a deep breath, clearing his call history. He already has the new number registered as something extremely inconspicuous. There's no evidence that it was anything other than a little panic attack.

"Kenny, are you alright?"

He nods. "Just a little bit of anxiety. Nothing more."


	6. I’ll come back, when you call me

It's hard to sneak out, but he managed to creep past him. He gets a cab to the airport, pays in cash. He lingers in the international arrivals area for a while, scanning the crowd for Kota. He knows he's probably still working his way through security, but the excitement still has Kenny bouncing on his toes.

Kota's eyes land upon Kenny. He almost didn't recognise him, he looks so ill. 

Kenny crosses the short distance between them, pulling Kota close. He's trembling, and Kota pulls him close. He's whispers gentle comforts, but none of them are the one that Kenny needs to make the petals stop.

He wouldn't ask Kota to say it either, he knows they aren't there yet. He knows he deserves the burning pain and sleepless nights.

Somehow, he's kept it all from everyone. Matt and Nick know something is wrong, but everything with Kenny is wrong right now. That's not a conclusion they'd jump to, right? 

He knows that the good brothers couldn't care less about what happens to him. At least they don't make any claim to. Despite Don's constant controlling behaviour that he knows raises all the goddamn red flags, he's never given any inclination that he's figured it out. 

He'd won multiple title matches with flowers blooming in his lungs. He had scratched and clawed for everything he's getting. It's just so hard not to feel so isolated. He's so helpless. Being at the top isn't the blissful feeling he's so used to, but a sensation of being trapped with no hope of escape, facing trial after trial as his body grows weaker.

"Shh." Kota whispered, rubbing the small of Kenny's back in that way he knows is comforting to him. "I'm here now. I've got you. I'm here." 

Kenny just sobs in his arms, as Kota comforts him. The proximity makes the burning settle, and the white-hot pain fades to red. It's still agony, but it lessens ever so slightly when Kota is with him.

Kota feels helpless too, nothing he's doing is helping in the slightest. He just wants to save Kenny from all this. He knows he can't. He can't say it like he means it, not right now.

"Let's get you home now." Kota whispers

"Anywhere but home, please." Kenny begs. 

This was a bad idea, he never should have done this. He doesn't want to face Don's wrath. It was bad enough when he had secretly called Matt, let alone calling Kota... and sneaking out to the airport. He can't even begin to imagine how disappointed Don would be. He doesn't want to be shouted at again. He doesn't want to be alone.

"Why not home, Kenny? What's wrong?" He asks gently, hands carding through his curls in hopes that it'll settle him. He can feel Kenny trembling again. Kenny just hides in his neck and holds onto him a little tighter.

"Don... he'll be so mad that I called you... after I called Matt it was awful..."

"What did he do?" Kota is scared to ask. Kenny has always been... fragile. He's easy to hurt, easy to wound deeply, if you're close enough to him. 

Kenny looks down. "He shouted at me. Took my phone too, like he was grounding me or something."

"What did he say, Kenny." Kota asks, voice steady. He silently ground his teeth. He knows Kenny like he knows his own mind. He knows Kenny is avoiding talking about the shouting because it bothered him. 

There's murder in his eyes, he knows how Kenny feels about Don. He knows that Kenny trusts Don with his whole heart, as much as he trusts Kota. Maybe even more.

"It's nothing... it was all true anyway-" he tries to brush it aside, sweep it under the rug. He knows it's not healthy, but he never knows what else to do.

Right now, Kenny needs his support, and he'll gladly be whatever he needs.

"Kenny, please... I know it's hard but I need to know what he said to you." 

There's a pit in Kota's stomach. He knows how easily Kenny's self worth can be affected, either for better or worse. If he hadn't picked up that phonecall... or if he'd hung up despite Kenny's pleas... he hates to think what could have happened to him. 

"He... told me I never deserved you."

Kota's heart plummets, as Kenny blinks away the tears, wiping them away with a hoodie sleeve. He know Kenny isn't finished, and that's worse.

"T-that you probably never loved me at all. And he said that- that Matt and Nick don't really love me because they could never care about someone like me. Someone as selfish as me-"

"Not a word of that is true, Kenny. Not a word." He interrupted. He knows it's selfish to cut him off, but he can only hold onto so much anger at once before it begins to consume him, and he's nearing his limit already. 

"Listen to me, Kenny. You're family to Matt and Nick. They love you to bits, they would never purposely hurt you. Surely you know that..."

"But they never called or anything..! They were never there for me when I needed them..."

"Did you ask why? Did they tell you?"

"They said they had called, and that Don messed with my phone... but he wouldn't do that, Kota. I know he wouldn't."

Kota sighed softly. This is hard to listen to. Kenny's so far in denial, and it's just... hard to see him like this. "What else did he say?"

"He said that- that you hate me for everything I've done."

"I don't hate you, Kenny." 

"You- you don't?

"I could never." He promises. Don has been lying to you. He's hurt you, he meant to. It was never an accident, he did this on purpose."

"He- no. He wouldn't! He's family, Kota, there has to be some mistake!"

"Then... lets go back, and I'll talk it out with him, yes?"

"Alright..."

"It's going to be okay. Will you be able to translate for me, or do you want to be away when we talk?"

"Away... watching is too much." 

"That's alright Kenny, I understand. Do you need a bucket for the petals..?"

"I brought one with me."

"Good thinking." 

Kenny is overwhelmed. He's had so many feelings in such a short time that the just wants to be held and told everything will be okay. 

Like always, Kota knows what he needs.


	7. It’s enough to make you sick

Kenny is a man weaved from contradictions. One minute, as fragile as a broken heart, the next, as unyielding as a fortress. 

Right now though, there didn't seem to be anything contradictory in his behaviour. He's curled into Kota's side, needing the contact. 

It eases the pain, and it means he spends less time hacking up dying plants. They look far less pretty now. The blossoms are so drenched in blood that they don't even look pink anymore. They're withered and stained red with dark, visceral blood, the same wine-dark blood that coats Kenny's lips.

It's enough to make Kota feel sick. He still loves Kenny, knows that in his heart. He wants to say the words that will make it all go away, but he's just not ready yet. He hates himself for it, the fact that he can't bring himself to say those three little words that will take all the pain away.

The coughing stops, and the rest of the taxi ride is silent. It's alright, silence is comfortable. Their whole relationship is built off of comfortable silences and communication through touches. Kota gently twiddles a curl of Kenny's hair around his finger, trying to soothe him somewhat.

Although Kenny looks calm, Kota can see the unrest in his eyes. He knows this is a lot to process. He knows this has all come out of what feels like nowhere to him. The petals and thorns aren't helping. 

When Kenny loves, he loves blindly and completely. Unconditionally. When Kenny does takes a leap of faith, he dives in head first.   
It's all or nothing with Kenny. Kota knows that all too well. 

Anyone who manages to slip past his defences, sees Kenny for what he is. A naive, loving and forgiving man, one that hides behind an exterior of ego and malice. 

Their fingers intertwine. The feeling hadn't changed much. Maybe it wasn't a roaring fire, not yet, but it still feels like the embers of a once bright flame. Glowing and warm, gentle and familiar. It comforts them both, it makes them feel safe. It means all the more, when the feeling of safety is a scarce one. 

They arrive at their destination. Kenny's home.

Kenny knocks, but Kota can see how his hands are shaking.

"Stay behind me. He doesn't know I contacted you. He thinks I'm still in my room."

Don opens the door. "Kenny? What are you doing out here- I told you to stay in your room. This better not be about Matt and Nick again-"

"It's not, its not, I promise!" 

Kota can't stand the way Kenny sounds so small, or the way his shoulders slump. He's already sick, practically dead on his feet! He can't take it, he can't take this anymore. 

He pushes in front of Kenny, using an arm to keep him back. He just glares into Don's very soul, he can't find words, not right now. He can't remember if Don speaks any Japanese either. 

Don gives an exasperated sigh and shakes his head. "Kenny... we've had this conversation." 

"You... you're a liar." Kota spat. He was trying to find the words, piecing them together in his mind. 

He hears a lot of English every day, he can understand it without much effort. Speaking it is another matter, but the meaning of the words runs deep into his heart. He thinks he can manage.

"Why don't you both come in? I think Kota and I need to have a chat."

Kenny looks at Kota, who gives nothing but a firm nod. He's worried. He knows this must be one big understanding. 

Kota mutters something in Japanese, and Kenny looks at him. 

"Are you sure you don't need me to translate?"

Kota nods again. "Room. Don't want you for this bit." 

The words aren't intended as harsh, but Kenny is so vulnerable right now that it still kind of stings. He goes to his room, and sits there, worrying.

"So, Kota. How did Kenny get in touch?"

"Not your business. What did you tell to him about me?"

"Skipping right to formalities, are we? Then let's give you a rundown." 

He nods sharply again. 

"It wasn't hard, Kota. After you told him you both were over if he left, he was so vulnerable. All I had to do was wait. His partnership with hangman fell apart easily. Poor boy didn't even see it coming, even with all that had happened." Don laughs softly, and Kota curls his fists just a little bit tighter. 

"All I had to do was comfort him, and he fell in line. He listened. I cut off Matt and Nick's texts and calls, so I could convince him they didn't really care. It was even easier to convince him you hated him, that you never loved him at all."

He pauses for dramatic effect, stepping in closer to Kota.

"I've got him right where I want him. He does what I say, because he fears me. He confides in me, because he trusts me. He tells me everything. He's told me even things that you don't know." 

"Not everything." He opens his hand, revealing the bloody flower in his palm 

Don's eyes widen. He's actually been caught off-guard. There's a flicker of humanity in his eyes, the remains of a man that had actually been a good mentor to Kenny.

"You're foolish, Kota." He warns, even though his voice quivers at first. "I could turn him against you with ease, I could hurt him in ways you can't imagine. All it takes is a few words. You've no clue what I could do to him."

He squeezes his eyes shut, sets his jaw, takes a   
deep breath. Repeats the sentence in his mind to make sure he has it right.

His accent is thick, and his voice is heavy with venom, but he knows from the way that Don's eyes narrow that he understood every word.

"I love Kenny more than I fear you."


	8. No need to say Goodbye

"I love Kenny more than I fear you."

Don laughs at him again. Chuckling, as if he has told a light-hearted, playful joke. If he didn't think it would hurt Kenny more than it would help, he wouldn't mind getting arrested for assault. Or maybe murder. At least grievous bodily harm.

"If only Kenny were around to hear you say you love him, Hm? Maybe that would make the petals stop... How selfish of you, to keep him like that. To let him suffer just because it's convenient for your needs, for your agenda. That's not love, is it?" Don said with condescension, as if he were scolding an amoral child. Kota wants to scream that he knows nothing of love and too much of selfishness, but he can't find the words.

"You forget one crucial thing, Ibushi. And that is that Kenny loves and puts more trust in me than he ever put into you. He never loved you enough to let you see the Cleaner, the part of him he hated so much... he never trusted you with that."

It was true and Kota hates it. Kenny never trusted him with that bit of himself. He would never say why, refused to give an explanation, but Kota had never trusted him enough to let him see the Cleaner up close, no matter how many times Kota promised he would take whatever comes with it as long as it's Kenny's. 

He yells out the first insult that comes to mind. At least he thinks it's an insult, he's not completely sure. He can remember Kenny saying it to Cody at least once.

"Sandwich!" 

Don stops in his tracks, turning to look at him. Success! No, wait, he's looking rather confused. 

"W-what did you just call me?"

"Sandwich!" He repeats, confidence growing

"... do you wanna try that one again?"

"Sandwiches?" He tries, but he's pretty sure he's calling Don some kind of food item, rather than a 'son of a bitch'. It's not his fault the phrases are so similar! Kenny always said them so quickly. 

English is a stupid language. Oh well, it's not like he hasn't watched Kenny make some far more embarrassing language errors before. 

Don pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

"Look kid, there is clearly a language barrier here. How about you just say it in Japanese? google translate will probably get the message across-"

Kota just flips him off out of pure frustration. Now Don was back on familiar ground

"Oh, struck a nerve, have I?" He smiled. "He never trusted you like he trusts me. I've known him since he was 10, he owes everything to me."

"Kenny trusts me." He says, walking past him, and towards Kenny's room. He knows Don's game, make him question himself, until he's able to talk him out of getting involved. He needs to break the cycle.

Kenny is nervously pacing when he opens the door. He rushes to hug Kota.

"See? All one big misunderstanding, right?" Kenny said, hopefully, but Kota shook his head gravely. 

"He threatened me, Kenny."

"What? Don- don wouldn't. It's... probably just a mistranslation!"

"Kenny... he threatened to try and turn you against me. He threatened to harm you emotionally. He laughed when he told me about you and hangman falling apart... I haven't misinterpreted this. He told me about how he messed with your phone to trick you about Matt and Nick. This was never about you... to him it was always business."

Initially, Kenny reacts with anger. Kota thinks he's well within his rights to. 

"I trusted him! I believed his lies because I thought he cared!" His eyes fill with tears, and it breaks Kota's heart. "... I loved him... he was like a father to me."

Kenny looks down, gently crying. Kota holds him close as he cries, trying to soothe him. He lets him get it out, let's Kenny talk about it. "I've got you, Angel. I've got you." He whispers. 

Kenny sits on the floor, and Kota joins him. After some time, Kenny has no tears left in him. Only petals, petals and blood. 

Kota's eyes widen at the sheer amount. Kenny is gasping, and gagging and it's sickening. He slumped back against him, and Kota knows he's dying.

"Kenny-" he starts 

"Shh. Just hold me, please." He whispers. Kota pulls him close, tears spilling from his eyes. He hates seeing Kenny like this. 

"It's karma." Kenny says, weakly. Kota's so fixated on his guilt that he didn't even notice Kenny looking up at him. The words snap him out of it. "For everything I've done. I deserve it... after the people I've hurt over and over... you... Matt... Nick... Hangman..."

"You don't deserve it, Kenny... but I will admit that this whole situation made me realise one thing."

"What?" Kenny asked with the last of his strength.

"I love you, Kenny. Every bit of you, I'll take whatever comes with it as long as it's yours. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped thinking about you. When I won... all I could think of was how wrong it felt that you weren't there with me... I missed you so much even then."

Kenny looks at him. He can feel it getting easier to breathe. He has to cough up some roots, but after that, he is breathing normally.

Kenny kisses him, and Kota manages to ignore the taste of blood as he kisses back. He supposed it's habit, he's kissed Kenny after matches so many times that he's grown to like the taste of his blood. It's like crackling electricity pulsing through them both, connecting them.

"I love you, so much, Kenny. I'm so sorry..."

"Shh. I love you too."


End file.
